My son has enjoyed shooting from a very young age and, as a 10-year-old, has budded into a fine young marksman. After shooting my M1 Garand for the first time on a trip to the range this spring, he asked if he could use it to hunt bears — and how could I deny that? I’ve learned that part of being a parent is wanting your kids to have opportunities that you didn’t, and maybe even spoil them a little. 10-year-old Tyler would have been in hog heaven to just lay hands on an M1, nevermind shoot a bear with one.
Fun in the Process
Though we all enjoy some of the same aspects of hunting, each of us finds satisfaction in different parts of the process. I’ve always liked selecting and preparing with the weapon. When I was a kid, our options were pretty limited. Whether it was using a certain set of limbs, arrows, or broadheads on a trad bow, or trying a rifle cartridge or bullet that I found interesting, I’ve always found fulfillment in that part of the process. I think that’s rubbed off on my boy too. It’s just that these days, my son has a lot more to choose from.
After several years of bear hunting with him, we’ve got a solid routine. All the kids come to help set up our bear bait in the spring, and we make regular trips to the range to practice on bear silhouette targets. We look at pictures and quiz each other on the best place to shoot a bear.
So far, I’ve had my kids use cartridges — to include .350 Legend, 22 ARC, 6.5 CM, and 6mm CM — that are exceptionally mild recoiling but still deadly on bears. While the .30/06, when loaded for the M1 Garand, is pretty mild, it was a step up from what we’d been shooting. Because the operating rod of the M1 can potentially be damaged by higher pressure .30/06, it’s important to use appropriate ammo. We could have selected some of the factory 168-grain ELD-Match or 168-grain A-Max factory M1 ammo that I have, but we decided to try loading Lehigh Defense 165-grain Extreme Chaos bullets over a sensible charge of Varget.
Jed used ball ammo to practice on bear targets at about 15 yards, but had a lot more fun pinging away at a steel IPSC at 100 yards. A big part of the enjoyment, for me, is seeing him grow in both skill and interests. I started him out shooting on a red dot sight at three years old and, despite plenty of old codgers thinking he’d be doomed to a life of marksmanship mediocrity by not earning his way with iron sights first, he’s done just fine — easily transitioning to irons on bb guns, .22 rifles, and my M1.
The Rifle
Part of what makes historical rifles cool is our speculation on the stories they might be able to tell. These guns were hewn out of steel and wood in the days before CNC and 3D printing. Receivers bear the tool marks to show it. Very few M1 rifles remain “as issued” and were worked over by armorers multiple times. My M1 is built on a Springfield receiver and was re-worked by the Civilian Marksmanship Program. It has a new stock, fresh finish on parts, and a new Criterion barrel. While it doesn’t sport the battle scars that many do, it’s a handsome gun.
The only modification I made, to make it easier on my son, was to add fluorescent green paint to the front sight post. We often see black bears late at night and, despite no real darkness, it gets pretty dim in the timber around midnight. From experience, I knew that a black front sight, on a black bear, in low light conditions would be challenging. Don’t worry, I wiped it right off afterward with some acetone.
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The Bear
We hunted several days before Jed got his bear. Our first night, he had a shot opportunity, but as he tightened the trigger, the bear spooked and loped back into the safety of the dark spruce thickets. After a couple more nights of eating snacks, pinching mosquitoes, and discussing just what makes red squirrels so obnoxious, I saw the edge of a bear’s body between some spruce limbs to our left. It was sitting in the edge of the woods, watching. After a minute or so, it walked off to our left and disappeared.
Shortly after, I heard the rustling of the empty dog food bag that I’d tucked under a tree back by the boat. Then it got quiet. I became convinced that the bear was in my boat, so I quietly climbed down and walked back to find it undisturbed. When I returned to the tree, Jed told me he’d heard a bear to our right. Sure enough, a few minutes later, it came in.
Jed made a perfect shot, and the bear ran about 15 yards before expiring — the fragmenting copper bullet putting a baseball-sized exit wound in the bruin’s ribs.
After loading the bear in the boat, I put Jed on the wheel, and watching his excitement and satisfaction while ramping up the throttle and driving us back home with his bear reminded me of what it was like to be his age. I was thankful to be able to help him have experiences he’ll remember forever.
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